The kids had their first t-ball turn-out today which was lots of fun. Dandy has a good arm and hits the ball well. The most exciting thing of the day was, however, the fact that My Gift is off turn-around and was home early. He is reading books to the kiddos as I type. It is so lovely to have another grown-up in the home.
no, not Juliana, me.
Jamie's Christmas present was a pruning service as we had many trees that were out-of-control. I saved money by arranging it such that the pruners did all the cutting and we would do all the clean-up. So now my yards, front and back, are covered with large branches for which I bought myself a Black & Decker Alligator
I cut it and the kids haul it away. It's way more fun than dusting.
I'm re-posting two links to sites that helped me with my wild boy for Lisa who seems to have brought home a wild one of her own. These boys will wear us out, yes, but they will be very interesting grown-ups.
Staking Tomatoes
Calming Your Wild Child
I'm trying to focus on happier days ahead -- ones in which we get to leave the house and do normal-people things.
My calendar tells me that t-ball practice starts in two weeks. I have NO experience with anything remotely resembling athletic endeavor, so I need your help. What exactly do I need to outfit two little people for t-ball?
On which hand do they wear the glove? their dominant hand I presume? (yes, I was a nerd in school - last one picked etc.)
edited to add that we have a T and a ball and a bat and one glove.
Elle told me I need cleats. When I ebay cleats I get soccer cleats; are they the same?
When I google gloves I get inch measurements. How do I figure out the right size?
They will get team t-shirts. Do they need special pants?
edited once again to share this cool T-Ball coloring book pdf that I found.
okay, so Andy has the flu - the one with vomiting and diarrhea and a cough that keeps him up all night. Only he doesn't know barfing etiquette and runs upstairs for the sink (!), dribbling up the stairs and down the hall and so on, passing FOUR empty plastic wastebaskets as he goes. He then pukes in the sink.
and
I am sick (fever, achy muscles, fatigue, headache), too sick to properly care for him, too sick to be cleaning up all the pukey bits, though I do
and
my husband is dog-tired from 5 weeks of working 12-14 hour days -- no days off -- and is generally only home between 8:00 pm and 6:00 am, on good days. When he is home he needs to be fed and put to bed, but that isn't an option right now.
and
then the fun starts.
First, Juliana finds the little glass on the window sill and spills it. You know, the little glass with an inch of red wine left in it on the window sill right under the silk burlap curtains and next to the beige-ish couch.
Then, while stuffing the couch covers in the wash (whilst almost passing out, as I am too sick to be doing this) every yellow-jacket in the neighborhood comes to help me. So there I am swatting at yellow-jackets and I do confess, naughty words were escaping my lips.
THEN our dear old dog drops a puddle of pee in the middle of the wool rug and, as we rush her to the front door, she dribbles all the way. She did not even seem aware of it, or she would have been mortified.
Barf, Red Wine, and Dog Pee all in one day. What did I do? Annoy the Stain-Gremlins?
A couple of autumns ago, Jamie greeted me at the front door saying, "I had to rescue a little puppy." I think, "Puppy! Cute! Furry! Cuddly!" Then I noticed the smell, the rotten garbage smell.
"What's that smell?"
"The puppy."
He had brought home a puppy nigh unto death, full of parasites and scabies (the stench) and with completely round legs from malnutrition.
Because the scabies commanded so much of our attention (quarantine from other house-pets, stinky-stinky etc.), I had rather forgotten about the funky legs until Juliana zeroed in on them while looking at old pictures.
How are Laurel's legs now? Perfectly straight.
Why is this relevant? Laurel is not the only one who joined our family with bent leg bones due to early childhood lack of nutrition.
Edited to add that scabies are not always stinky, but in Laurel's case, they had done so much damage that her skin had started to die, hence the stench.
Just got this link for the MarKuel, our first home with our children in Russia.
I read Cloudscome's blog; she posts about worthy things - world concerns, quality children's literature, poetry. I post about fluffy little girl's clothes. This has been bothering me. What happened to the old me that cared about the outside world?
My analysis is that the outside world is rather bleak and sleety and whenever I go into it I walk the zombie-lined halls of a nursing home and I'm just not up to it. On the other hand, sweet little girl's dresses speak of spring, sunshine, happy play-filled afternoons, a bright giggle-filled future. I've decided that I'm not shallow, I'm just over-whelmed.
So, on that note:
okay, so I do admit I'm in a rough patch right now. Chocolate consumption is up and the on-line shopping has commenced. Here is my fav:
Andy is trying to learn to read and he is very impatient with the phonics. La-Le-Li-Lo-Lu: he could not care less. He gives up easily and is not interested. Juliana, on the other hand, is very keen on reading.
Sneaky and devious mom that I am, I told them they could watch VeggieTales as soon as Juliana learns five flashcards. Andy is in there industriously teaching her La-Le-Li-Lo-Lu. I am doing my work and snickering up my sleeve.
She sings all the time. This morning's song:
I love my mama.
Yes I do.
I love my mama.
Yes I do.
My Ruskie mama.
No I eat.
My Ruskie mama.
No I eat.
I love my mama.
Eat. Eat. Eat.
I love my mama.
Eat. Eat. Eat.
My mama loves me.
Eat. Eat. Eat.
My mama loves me.
Eat. Eat. Eat.
My Ruskie mama . . .
I didn't get to follow through with my dance class as Jamie started working pre-turn-around overtime every Thursday night. I don't know the real reason why a refinery shut-down is called a turn-around; we've always thought it's because the workers drive home and then turn-around and go back to work, which is certainly what he did last night: home a 11 and back to work at 7 am. Anyway, my plan to maintain (regain?) mental health with an hour of stretching and pretty music fell through, so I went the chemical route. Lexapro.
I tend to get murky and unhappy during the long dreary soggy winters we have (who wouldn't?), so I have used anti-depressants a few other years and they always made me pudgy. So this time I bought a digital scale to help keep pudginess at bay. I was quickly losing the right to call it pudge and was about to have to use the F word; you know, the one that rhymes with hat. Since Lexapro I've lost 15 pounds! Add that to the 10 I lost sitting vigil in December with Dad and I am nearing my target weight/size. Now if that doesn't cheer a girl up, what will?
In addition, my lovely mother-in-law has come up for the long weekend (Jamie is in full turn-around now, 12-14 hrs a day for months). It is so nice to have another grown-up in the house so that each kid always has somebody. Today she and Juliana went out to lunch and shopping. Poor Andy has a nasty flu. On Sunday he went to his first American birthday party and came home all elated and happy and later all feverish and ill. He is in bed. For every time he sl
Andy is doing very well at his new school. He goes five afternoons a week. It is a really good fit and I am very pleased with the attention and instruction he receives there. His teacher is top-notch and the principal is a lovely example of firm and friendly. Andy is very fond of both of them.
Remember in early Feb when I posted that I had been sick for awhile? I still haven't gotten my voice back. I whisper and croak and am generally inaudible. So, if you are a face-to-face friend feeling sad or neglected cause I never call (not that I ever did anyway), do know that I am living a forced phone-free life right now. The kids and I are learning sign language so that we can get by. I'm not joking about this. We have yes, no, kleenex, kitty, dog, more, ouch, food/eat, I love you, telephone, and so on.
Because the discipline in the children’s previous life was so harsh, it has been quite a challenge to come up with strategies that are motivating to the children.
Little chair?
No sweat.
Swat?
No biggie.
Loss of toys?
Oh well.
Spoonful of ketchup?
Oh NO! Anything but that!
About two weeks ago Andy appeared to have decided that there was nothing that we would throw at him that he could not handle, and all sorts of mischief ensued. The most startling was persistent and dramatic chewing-with-mouth-wide open. He never used to do this and was now doing it all the time. We would remind him and he would say okay and then do it again the very next bite. It was looking deliberate. Then ketchup occurred to me.
“No, thank you! Ick!”
“Next time I see your food as you chew, I’ll bring you a spoonful.”
(mouth snaps shut for chewing and remains closed)
For Juliana, peanut butter does the same job. I have a friend who uses vinegar.
This morning I saw Andy lift his arm to hit his sister and then stop.
“Andy, what helped you remember to not hit?”
“I don’t want ketchup.”
So, Andy and I were driving in to see my Dad the other day and we were talking about the ketchup and how good it has been at helping Andy remember. He wanted to know if Grandpa knew about the ketchup. Yes. Andy did not like this. He fussed about it quite a bit.
“I’m angry you told Grandpa my secrets.” he said.
“Are you angry that I told him about the ketchup? Or that I told him that you had not-nice behavior?”
“Not-nice behavior.”
“Are you afraid that Grandpa won’t like you if he knows about your not-nice behavior?”
“Yes.”
I pull the car over.
“Andy, this is what is so cool about having a family. Families can know all your nice parts and all your not nice parts and still love you. Grandpa knows all my nice parts and all my not nice parts and he still loves me. That’s what families do. It’s really lovely.”
“Oh.”
“That’s what Jesus does too. He loves us even though we have nice parts and not nice parts. He’s part of our family.”
“Oh”
“Did you know that families love that way?”
“No”
“So Grandpa can know about your good days and about your bad days and he just loves you big time.”
(quiet)
“What do you think?”
“It’s okay to tell Grandpa.”
in no particular order . . .
* Andy starts his new school tomorrow. We are enrolling him in the private school I attended, known for its vigilent approach to character issues such as respect and obey.
* Jamie starts a turn-around next week. This is when a refinery is shut-down for maintenance and work is carried on 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, for several months. Jamie will be working 14 hour shifts, as he is the supervisor and has to overlap the crews that work mere 12 hour shifts. He gets a mandatory day off on the 52nd consecutive work day. So, I'll be pretty much parenting solo.
* I've been sick for over a week which means I can't go see my Dad which is a sorrow for me. Dad is, reportedly, much better.
* We have a new dog, Bear, who is staying with us while Dad gets better. He is a sweet dog and fits in nicely with our other dogs and has even learned to not chase the kitties. He regularly breaks into the goat corral where Betsy, the bearded lady goat, roundly trounces him.
* The lovely week of sunshine has come to an end and the more typical grey dreary bitterly cold days have returned.
* We are filing our post-placement reports and getting ready to start the Washington State readoption process. The sole reason for doing this is getting Washington birth certificates for the kids. In the event that they ever need to get a copy of their birth certificate, it is much easier to do this locally than to apply to Russia for one.
The kids recently told me that when they first got to our house they snuck pieces of kitty food and ate it. They apparently ran to the bathroom to spit it out. In the first few days they didn't see the kitties at all, so the little bowls of food around the house had looked like people-snacks to them. Blech.
I've discovered that DVDs and laptops are the best thing ever if, for example, you need to take your children with you to your staff meeting or to your father's nursing home. Whilst watching Muppets in Space yesterday, Andy was surprised to hear Russian spoken. The English-speaking muppets go to space to find that some other muppets are already there. And what language do these other first-in-space mupponauts speak? Russian of course.
My heavens, there is so much that a Mama needs to know. This week I learned about the Fifth Disease, a common rash of childhood that Andy has brought to our attention. He is not ill, in that he feels fine and is not running a fever, but the rash on his face is not cute.
the very condensed version of our lives
Sometime in the near future, we will hit 40,000. If you are the one that clicks us over the top, please comment and let us know who you are and something interesting or amusing about you.
(!!)
